Only a Mild Aquaintance
by Elizabeth Arian
Summary: The 'A Study in Scarlet' era in which the formidable duo first meet...COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_A brand new story whoo hoo : ) I've borrowed a few lines from A Study in Scarlet if you recognise anything so that belongs to Sir Arthur not me, the rest I promise will be all my won work. Please read and review and let me know if you want me to continue. Thanks all Music97 xx_

**Only a Mild Acquaintance.**

John Watson dragged his poor, tired body through the bustling streets, not even noticing the many muttered comments and scandalised looks that came his way. This is not where he thought his life would take him. London, that buzzing metropolis that only seemed to grow and gradually fill with a million people. He sighed as someone else ran into him, nearly knocking his malnourished frame sideways. His throat was dry and his head ached. He looked up, desperate for anywhere to place his tired bones. He found a small bar that didn't seem quite as crowded as the others which he gratefully disappeared into. He ordered a drink with the little money he had left in his pockets and ran his finger down the side of the cool glass, staring into it.

"You won't find the answers in there Sir."

A young voice interrupted his thoughts; Watson looked up slowly into a pair of glittering young eyes that were smiling at him.

"Stamford!" He exclaimed, sitting up and offering his hand, which the man heartily shook.

"Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Watson?" Stamford asked in undisguised wonder, "You are as thin as a lath and as brown as a nut."

Watson smiled at this; looking down at his weather-beaten hands he had to admit that he looked as little like his old self as he thought possible. Not wishing to talk much about his war experiences, Watson outlined briefly what had happened to him. Stamford listened with patience,

"Well what are you doing now?" He asked smiling slightly.

"Looking for lodgings," Watson answered. "Trying to solve the problem as to whether it is possible to get comfortable rooms at a reasonable price."

"That's a strange thing," Stamford remarked; "you are the second man to-day that has used that expression to me."

"And who was the first?"

"A fellow who is working at the chemical laboratory up at the hospital. He was bemoaning himself this morning because he could not get someone to go halves with him in some nice rooms which he had found, and which were too much for his purse."

"By Jove! If he really wants someone to share the rooms and the expense, I am the very man for him. I should prefer having a partner to being alone."

Stamford looked rather strangely at him over his wineglass. "You don't know Sherlock Holmes yet," he said; "perhaps you would not care for him as a constant companion."

"Why, what is there against him?"

"Oh, I didn't say there was anything against him. He is a little queer in his ideas—an enthusiast in some branches of science. As far as I know he is a decent fellow enough."

"A medical student, I suppose?"

"No—I have no idea what he intends to go in for. I believe he is well up in anatomy, and he is a first- class chemist; but, as far as I know, he has never taken out any systematic medical classes. His studies are very desultory and eccentric, but he has amassed a lot of out-of-the-way knowledge which would astonish his professors."

"Did you never ask him what he was going in for?"

"No; he is not a man that it is easy to draw out, though he can be communicative enough when the fancy seizes him."

"I should like to meet him, If I am to lodge with anyone, I should prefer a man of studious and quiet habits. I am not strong enough yet to stand much noise or excitement. I had enough of both in Afghanistan to last me for the remainder of my natural existence. How could I meet this friend of yours?"

"He is sure to be at the laboratory, he either avoids the place for weeks, or else he works there from morning till night. If you like, we will drive round together after luncheon."

They rattled through the busy streets of London at a pace Watson had almost forgotten. He found it strange to see people going about their daily business when he had seen so much, so much that had changed him and here they were not caring.

Soon they pulled up at the hospital and jumped out of the cab, Watson smiled at the familiar sight before following Stamford inside. The smells and sounds brought back long buried memories to Watson who felt sick at the stomach for the loss of such a time. Before long they came to a laboratory where a lone student was working. Watson raised an eyebrow at the young man hunched over the desk, obviously absorbed in his work and inwardly groaned at the thought of having to make polite conversation with this man with whom he would probably have nothing in common.

He looked up as they entered and smiled thinly taking the hand Stamford offered him, he then turned to Watson and looked strangely at him;

"Dr. Watson, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said Stamford, performing the introductions.

"How are you?" he said cordially, gripping Watson's hand with a strength that made him wince. "You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive."

"How on earth did you know that?" Watson asked in astonishment, not sure if he liked this man with his piercing eyes that seemed to go through you.

"Never mind," said he, chuckling to himself.

"We came here on business," said Stamford, sitting down on a high three-legged stool, and pushing another one in Watson's direction with his foot. "My friend here wants to take diggings; and as you were complaining that you could get no one to go halves with you, I thought that I had better bring you together."

Sherlock Holmes seemed delighted at the idea of sharing his rooms. "I have my eye on a suite in Baker Street," he said, "which would suit us down to the ground. You don't mind the smell of strong tobacco, I hope?"

"I always smoke 'ship's' myself," Watson answered.

"That's good enough. I generally have chemicals about, and occasionally do experiments. Would that annoy you?"

"By no means."

"Let me see—what are my other shortcomings? I get in the dumps at times, and don't open my mouth for days on end. You must not think I am sulky when I do that. Just let me alone, and I'll soon be right. What have you to confess now? It's just as well for two fellows to know the worst of one another before they begin to live together."

Watson smiled at the man's enthusiasm. Having arranged to meet the following day Watson and Stamford left Holmes to his studies, Watson glanced back at the man who he would soon be sharing his days with. Stamford held the door open for him, a quizzical look on his face.

"Don't you think you'll become friends?"

"Oh I'm sure he has his own life, and I have mine, other than living together I doubt we will be much more than mild acquaintances."

Watson smiled and Stamford returned it, as they left Mr. Sherlock Holmes looked up from his experiment and sighed. He did not like to share his knowledge and this man whoever he was, was bound to get on his nerves. With a furious look at the exiting pair Holmes' dipped his head once more in thought and soon forgot Dr. John Watson.


	2. Chapter 2 Mrs Hudson

Chapter Two. Mrs. Hudson

Holmes looked around him a the spacious room with a frown, it wasn't quite as big as he had hoped. He heard footsteps and heavy breathing behind him, he turned to see a breathless Watson carrying a box,

"You should have called me." Holmes said taking the box from him and placing it on the ground. Dusting his hands off on his trousers he again cast a glance around the sunlit room.

"Its marvellous Holmes."

Holmes raised an eyebrow at him.

"Marvellous is hardly the word I would have used, still I suppose after spending so much time in Afghanistan this does seem rather marvellous." He smiled, to his surprise Watson smiled back.

"You are right, even so I already feel at home here." Watson placed himself on the edge of a box and looked up at Holmes who was still staring strangely at him.

"You are the most sentimental man I've ever known Watson."

Watson laughed.

"And you don't have an ounce of sentiment in you I suppose?"

"No."

"I'm afraid I don't believe you"

Holmes smiled,

"I'm a cold creature Watson but you'll get used to me."

"I can't believe you cold Holmes."

Holmes stood up and walked to the window, gently pushing the curtain aside, he viewed the street. Not a bad view, he thought.

"What is your profession if you don't mind me asking?" Watson's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Erm..I am a consultant."

"For what?"

Holmes cursed silently under his breath, this man and his damn questions, he knew he was going to regret this.

"For people who need help, and you? Are you in practice just now?" He asked, taking a seat opposite Watson, desperate to steer the conversation away from himself.

"Not just now, no."

"You should be, you are obviously a man who finds unemployment a bore."

Watson laughed,

"Yes, you're right. Maybe I will see about it tomorrow."

Holmes looked at this man with whom he was to share his rooms and wondered about his life, that he was sentimental was painfully obvious, a thought suddenly struck him.

"Watson?"

"Mmm," Watson mumbled from somewhere behind a box.

"Are you…courting at the moment?"

Watson's head appeared from behind a box and Holmes had to smile at the bewildered look on his face.

"No, what makes you say that?"

"Well, when we met, you did say you had another set of vices when you well and I wondered…"

"Holmes really!"

Holmes smiled again,

"I'm sorry old fellow but women are…well not welcome to me."

"Not welcome?"

"I am not a whole hearted admirer of woman kind Watson."

"Why ever not?"

"Experience."

"I wont ask." Watson smiled, turning back to his box.

"No I wouldn't." Holmes smiled back, abruptly silencing as he heard a woman's footsteps on the stair. A middle aged woman, slender and attractive opened the door, carrying a tray. Watson immediately went to relieve her of it.

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson." Holmes said, politely.

"How are you settling in?" She had a sweet voice, Watson thought it a shame she had been widowed so young.

"Very well thank you," She nodded to Holmes and turned to go, "Er..Mrs Hudson?"

She turned,

"Yes sir?"

"We'll have that talk later if you don't mind."

"Of course Sir, any time you like."

Holmes smiled gently and nodded, Mrs. Hudson nodded back then left. Holmes turned to find Watson staring at him, with a smirk on his face.

"What are you so pleased about?" Holmes asked, picking a book from the floor and flicked aimlessly through it.

"I thought you said you weren't sentimental?" Watson's voice had taken on an air of mockery. Holmes sighed.

"I'm not."

"Then why do you need to talk privately with Mrs. Hudson?"

"That is my business, it is not a love affair I assure you, even I would know better than to conduct an affair in my own household under the nose of my roommate."

"Yes, I truly believe you would, even if you did have the will to conduct an affair, which I am beginning to doubt."

"I suppose you have conducted many Watson?" Holmes said putting the book down and smiling.

"Oh, you'd be surprised Holmes."

"I doubt it Watson, I doubt it."

Watson laughed and proceeded to empty another box while Holmes again glanced down into the street Mrs. Hudson looked up at him and she nodded, a grave look darkening her pretty face. Holmes prayed for her safety and prayed she would know what to do. Still, he thought, Martha Hudson was a brave and reliable woman, she trusted him completely,. She had after all, known him since he was a child. Which was precisely the reason he had been so anxious to acquire this house, even with Watson. Watson; he again glanced over to the man who was emptying boxes and frowned. Watson was a problem, and Watson would have to be kept in the dark for as long as was possible - for all their sakes.

_Ooooh, I wont keep you waiting long, promise. Please review, they are ever so ever so welcome : ) xx_


	3. Chapter 3 Secrets and Lies

**Chapter Three. Secrets and Lies.**

Holmes paced anxiously up and down the quiet sitting room, biting his nails. Watson's eyes followed him, he was beginning to become annoying.

"Holmes why don't you sit down?" Watson asked, exasperated.

"She should be back by now."

"Who?"

"Mrs. Hudson."

"Oh, Why are you so anxious as to Mrs. Hudson's whereabouts?" Watson's face lit up into a smile, which Holmes ignored.

"Watson don't be so childish."

"Holmes for goodness sake you will wear a hole in the carpet if you carry on!"

"I'm going out."

Holmes picked up his stick and coat from the stand and made for the door.

"Going where? Holmes! Holmes!"

His cries were lost as Holmes dashed out into the cold night, the wind whipping about his body but he hurried on constantly cursing himself for being so stupid. His legs burned, protesting against the speed at which he was walking. As he rounded the corner into Trafalgar Square, a woman screamed.

"Oh I'm awfully sorry I didn't see you…" Holmes began but paused when the woman's face registered, "Mrs. Hudson!"

He almost embraced the woman in his joy, she smiled up at him.

"Mr. Holmes, whatever are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, where on earth have you been?"

"I'm sorry Sir but he took his time over giving me the papers and I didn't want him to be suspicious, that would have hardly suited your plans would it sir?"

"No it wouldn't," Holmes said smiling, placing a hand on the woman's arm and leading her away from the throng of people coming towards them, "Thank you…Martha."

"It's a pleasure Sir, shall I give them to you now?"

"No, no not yet, wait until we get you home then we'll talk."

"Yes sir, Sir?"

Mrs. Hudson glanced at her lodger with apprehension, unsure whether to continue,

"Mmmm? What is it?"

His grip on her arm was becoming quite painful.

"Why did you come looking for me?"

Holmes looked down at her with such a glare she immediately wished to take it back.

"Because I was worried about the length of time you were taking."

"Oh."

"And I could hardly leave one of my best spy's to the mercy of Mr. Harris could I?"

Holmes smiled at her, releasing his grip as they neared Baker Street.

"Yes Sir." Martha Hudson smiled, amused at the thought of herself as a spy, as opposed to what she really was.

"Martha, one thing before we go in."

"Yes sir?"

"Watson is to know nothing of your…outing. Not yet, he doesn't even know what I do for a living I think it would be too much of a shock for him to know I was using our housekeeper to gain information for a case. Better for him to think we are conducting an affair."

"I beg your pardon Sir?"

Holmes laughed at her shocked tone.

"Watson thinks we are having some illicit affair, at the moment that is preferable."

"Whatever you say Sir, although he must have quite an imagination, I'm old enough to be your mother!"

Holmes laughed again, a large laugh that lit up his face, such as Martha had seen only a handful of times during their acquaintance.

"Hardly Martha." He said opening the door for her and following her through. He held her arm for a moment, his eyes fixed on the stairs.

"You go into the kitchen and put the papers somewhere safe, I will invent some story for Watson and join you there in a few moments."

"Yes sir," Martha began to head for the kitchen when he stopped her again.

"And Martha? Thank you."

She smiled,

"Its my pleasure Sir." His hand released her arm and he flew up the stairs two at a time. She shook her head as she watched him go, why did she risk her life for this man? Inside she knew why, because he had saved her more than once, and he would save a great many more people and once you knew that about him, well, you would risk your life for him too. She turned and headed into the warm kitchen, lighting the lamps as she went, she took off her hat and coat and placed the folder of papers into a locked drawer until Mr. Holmes should want them. Soon she heard him gently tiptoeing down the stairs. She filled a teapot as she waited, the kitchen door creaked open.

"Watson's asleep," His voice was hushed and Mrs. Hudson smiled as she poured the tea,

"Well he can't hear you down here sir." She said quietly mocking his tone. Holmes smiled again as he closed the door.

"No, of course not," he sat down at the table and wiped a hand across his brow, Mrs. Hudson thought he looked pale, "Thank you."

He took up the cup she had offered him sipping it distractedly.

"Was it very difficult for you Martha?" He asked looking up as she sat down.

"Not really sir, but he do like to talk don't he?"

"Yes I suppose he does, especially to attractive widows." His eyes sparkled at her over his tea cup.

"But I got the papers easy enough, he believed I worked for that government bloke when I showed him that calling card you gave me, where did you get it sir?"

"My brother, he does come in useful at times."

"I'm sure sir, any how it was easy enough like I said, he just kept me talking."

"What about?" Holmes paused, his tea cup half to his lips.

"Oh nothing about you sir, about me, my husband, whether I had any children, where I lived…"

"You didn't tell him that did you?"

"Of course not sir, what do you take me for? I been doing this long enough to know that ain't such a good idea."

"No, you're quite right. I should trust your judgement Martha, it has served me well in the past."

"Yes sir."

"Do you have the papers?"

"Yes sir, they're locked in the drawer of that desk over there, do you want me to fetch them?"

"No, leave them there until I want them. If we do get visitors they wont think to look there."

"Oh sir you don't think..?"

Holmes held up a hand to stop her,

"No I don't I'm just being cautious."

He paused and looked up at the ceiling,

"Sounds like Watson's awake." He stood up to go, "Remember what I said, not a word."

He placed a finger over her lips, she could smell his tobacco and hair cream.

"Now get off to bed, you've had a trying day."

He gently pushed her toward the door, she let him, she hadn't realised she was so tired. He stopped before the door, one hand on the handle, the other on her shoulder.

"Thank you Martha, you are quite invaluable."

She looked up into his eyes, so are you she thought, but did not say it.

"Yes sir. Goodnight sir."

"Goodnight Martha."

He opened the door for her and watched her through. Then shutting it silently he bounded back up the stairs.

"Good to see you awake Watson!" He shouted merrily upon entering.

"You look rather pleased with yourself." Watson said smiling.

"You would be too if you had just seen what I have."

"And what's that?"

"Mmm, all will be revealed Watson, all will be revealed."

_Indeed it will : ) Please, please review and I__'ll love you forever xxx_


	4. Chapter 4 A Case Solved

**Chapter Four. A Case Solved**

Holmes was exhausted. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep but it would not come. His mind was filled with thoughts of the case, the first case he had ever shared with someone else. Watson. Holmes snapped open his eyes again, sleep was impossible. He threw on a dressing gown and went out into the sitting room. The fire was still glowing slightly and he bent down to light a pipe. Throwing himself into the nearest chair he closed his eyes again and began to think. Could he realistically allow Watson on to a case? His work could be dangerous at times and the childlike look of wonder in Watson's face during this case had unnerved Holmes, if he was to take anyone with him it would have to be someone on whom he could completely rely. Was that Watson? He had acted somewhat on the spur of the moment when he had asked him along, why had he done it? His brow furrowed in thought as he realised there was no logical explanation for his behaviour, he could not explain it at all. His lids began to droop, but he forced them open. He had still not told Watson about Mrs. Hudson, maybe it would be better not to. He may need her again and Watson may betray her. No, he wouldn't do that, or would he? Holmes sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. Why did he need a lodger so? If only the cases he solved would begin to pay maybe he wouldn't have to put up with this man for much longer and his cases – and indeed his life - would be secure. Still, the Lauriston Garden mystery had been solved and all was well – relatively. Watson had made some talk about writing the mystery up with some elaborate and romanticised title. Holmes winced at the thought, how would he ever be taken seriously if Watson insisted on making him a work of fiction? He stirred as he heard a movement on the stairs. The door opened and a dishevelled looking Watson appeared,

"Holmes! Goodness me you made me jump."

Holmes smiled thinly,

"I apologise, I thought you were in bed."

"I had an urgent telegram from a patient."

Holmes stood up and guided the man to a chair.

"Sit down for goodness sake, you look exhausted."

"I am, what are you doing up?"

"Sleep eludes me Watson, which is unusual after a case."

"I can imagine it is Holmes, I've never seen anyone work quite so hard on anything. I am privileged to have been able to share it with you."

Holmes smiled thinly once more, was there no end to this man's sentimentality!?

"Not at all Watson, it was a pleasure to be observed." He cringed inwardly at this; there was certainly no logic to this behaviour, what on earth had come over him?

"I hope you don't mind me writing your work up Holmes?"

"Of course not Doctor, you may do what you like."

_Yes, do what you like with me, it will not resemble the case in any way I shouldn't wonder_, Holmes thought despairingly.

"You should be publicly recognised Holmes." The doctor was practically gushing, Holmes could take no more.

"I think I'm sufficiently sleepy enough to try bed once more," Holmes smiled, his acting skills coming splendidly into play, "Goodnight Doctor."

Watson mumbled something from the armchair; Holmes glanced over and was dismayed to find the doctor already writing the case up. No, it would be better if Martha Hudson's part in his life remained a secret, God Knows what lurid tales Watson could invent for her…

_I apologise for the relative shortness of these chapters and how long they are taking me to complete, this is quite a difficult story to figure out and I want to go in the right direction so I apologise, any suggestions on where you would like it to go let me know! Oh and please review, I will be eternally grateful : ) x_


	5. Chapter 5 An Adventure and a Warning

**Chapter Five. An Adventure and a Warning.**

Mrs. Hudson waited in the dark, watching the window with wide eyes. She was a supporter of women's rights, but this may have been going a bit too far. Mr. Holmes was not one for taking advantage she knew, but he did seem to be sending her out on more and more assignments these days. She didn't think he quite realised what he was putting her through. He may have been able to do all the things he asked of her without a second thought but she was a woman after all, and a mere housekeeper to boot! Not that he saw it that way; he saw her as a useful commodity, reliable in a crisis and was to be made full use of. There were days when she felt more like one of his experiments than his housekeeper; and it was so hard keeping it all from the doctor. He was such a pleasant man and he suspected nothing, she thought Mr. Holmes exceedingly cruel to treat them both this way, almost playing them off against each other to see whose loyalty to him was strongest. There was something of the egoist about Mr. Holmes and Mrs. Hudson found it exceedingly distasteful for a gentleman to behave in such a manner. A light across the road broke into her thoughts and she tensed, peering quietly into the street from the window of the empty house she was sitting in – which Mr. Holmes had acquired for their purposes – she saw two figures moving around the lower floor of the house. They appeared to be talking and she wondered what she should do. She remained still and silent, barely even breathing. She watched as the two men laughed at each other and shook hands, then something was exchanged, she leaned closer to the window but could see nothing. It appeared to be a small envelope of some kind. She felt she needed to do something but Mr. Holmes had been very particular, she was to sit and watch what unfolded, keep out of sight and that was all. She sighed, it would be better to face these two alone than Mr. Holmes if she disobeyed him. 

The two men nodded to each other and exited the room, it was again enfolded in darkness, she released her breath slowly. She wondered if she should wait a few minutes but decided all that was going to happen had happened. Quietly she stood and remaining close to the wall edged slowly out of the building and into the street. The house she had been watching was in complete darkness, the street lamp gave it an eerie glow and she shuddered. She hurried down the street, not looking back. She thought she could hear footsteps behind her so quickened her pace. They were getting closer but she did not run, to run would arouse suspicion so she continued at speed. Suddenly a hand was on her shoulder, she spun around to come face to face with a rough looking man of about forty. She smiled as best she could.

"Can I help you?" She was amazed she managed to keep her voice steady.

"That house you just come out of, it's abandoned ain't it?" His voice was coarse and to Mrs. Hudson's ears sounded strained.

"Yes, it used to belong to my brother. A few of my belongings are there; I went to look them over." She lied, somewhat convincingly she thought.

"There ain't nothing there missus, I bin in that house a few times and I ain't never seen nothing."

"You shouldn't have been there, especially snooping around." Mrs. Hudson assumed her most indignant pose, terrified to her very core. 

"Oh shouldn't i? And who are you to tell me what I should and should not be doin?2 His grasp on her arm was becoming tighter.

"What do you mean treating me like this? It's outrageous!" She raised her voice hoping some passer by would hear her and come to her aid no-one did.

"You know what I think love?" He leaned in closer to her face, she closed her eyes against his smell, "I think you is working for someone, and I think whoever it is needs a warnin not to mess in business they don't understand."

"A warning?" Her voice quivered, in spite of her wish to control it. 

Before she could say more the man's hand had landed with a thud across her face, she fell to the floor, blood filling her mouth and making her choke, she turned to face him and tried to scream as another blow hit her, but she did not have chance, the blow knocked her unconscious. She rolled on to the cold pavement; the man laughed and threw his cigarette end next to her body. Still laughing the man nochantly walked away, ignoring the rain that was beginning to fall heavily on a quiet London.

_Sorry for the length between updates, I'm trying to hold down two jobs and sleep! Hope you enjoy this brief chapter, more will follow soon, please, please review, thanks : ) xx_


	6. Chapter 6 I Pledge My Life

**Chapter Five. I pledge my Life.**

The rain beat ceaselessly upon the hospital window, Holmes gazed at it stony eyed and angry with the world. Watson looked on from the doorway, unsure of what to do, how to deal with this man he barely knew who had such strange fits of temper. Mrs. Hudson had been brought in early that morning, Holmes had gone out the previous night, concerned as to her absence and had found her lying in the gutter. Watson was beyond amazed when Holmes brought to the hospital, no more amazed than Holmes himself at finding Watson there. That had been four hours ago, only four hours Watson thought as he watched his roommates tense body hardly move as the rain lashed and threw itself in angry torrents at the windows. 

"Holmes?" Watson tentatively approached him.

"How is she?" His voice was calm and betrayed nothing but Watson could tell evry nerve was on edge.

"She is…stable. It's a good thing you found her when you did or she would have been…"

"Yes, thank you, I am aware of that."

"What was she doing out there Holmes?"

Holmes sighed and lowered his head, he always knew this would come.

"I cannot keep you in the dark any longer," he approached Watson and placed both his hands on the man's shoulders, "I believe I can trust you doctor and if you are the man I'm beginning to think you are it will not be the last time I will be in need of your help."

Watson gazed into this man's eyes and felt a sense of duty return to him, a feeling he had thought long dead. He held his gaze a moment longer before replying.

"I will help you in any way I can, you have my promise and my word." 

Holmes smiled,

"That is more than enough." He released his grasp and returned to the window.

"Mrs. Hudson is not just our landlady Watson, I have known her since my childhood she has always been…a friend. A valued and trusted one. When I was at University I began to find that I could interest people with my deductions, it soon became apparent that people valued my opinions and often came to me for help. You know from our previous…adventure my line of work and how I go about it. You do not know however, that I occasionally employ, shall we say aides? Spy is a word with too many connotations - to help me be in two places at once as it were. Mrs. Hudson was one of these aides."

Holmes heard Watson give out a small gasp but he remained silent,

"As I said I have known Mrs. Hudson, Martha, since my childhood. She was the daughter of our gamekeeper, and as I spent most of my adolescent life outdoors we became friends. When I moved to university we did not speak for three years, however during that time Martha's father died and she married, her husband lived in London where she too moved, we made contact again after a few cases had brought me some recognition in our great metropolis. Life then went on as it always does, until a tragedy occurred. Martha's husband was murdered, as callous as it sounds it was a simple case and did not take very long to solve, even so Martha was eternally grateful to me and pledged her life to my service, women are peculiar in their sentimentalities but reluctantly I agreed. At first I gave her small assignments but she proved herself a remarkable help, so I began to give her more responsibility. Anyway, it was on one of these assignments that has brought her here, and it is my fault."

Here Holmes abruptly stopped, Watson was a little shocked but not as much as he perhaps should have been. He approached Holmes and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"It is not your fault Holmes, women are hard to refuse, especially when some sentimental notion is in their heads and Mrs. Hudson has obviously proven herself to be a quite remarkable woman. The little I know of you tells me you are far from being a callous man and I believe you would exchange places with Mrs. Hudson in a second if you could. I feel extremely honoured that you have shared your past with me and if it is not too much of a cliché on my part, I would like to pledge my life to your service as Mrs. Hudson has done."

Holmes turned to Watson amazed,

"You know nothing of me why would you do this?"

"I know enough, I saw the fear in your eyes when you brought her in, I saw the fear in your eyes just now when you were talking and I saw the love you have for her on your face when recalling your childhood. I feel you are remarkable man Holmes, you have given me back some purpose to a life I thought over, and if I can be of any help to you, well I am here."

Watson smiled at Holmes astonished expression.

"Watson I…"

Holmes faltered as Watson held out his hand, with a grip that surprised even himself Holmes took it.

"Holmes and Watson. I quite like the sound of that." Watson said laughing as Holmes released him, "I shall go and check on Mrs. Hudson."

Holmes started but Watson held up a hand,

"I promise someone will fetch you if there are any changes. there is a room down the corridor with a bed, and I have ordered you some food, go and have something top eat and get some sleep, you look all in. you will be of no use to anyone if you starve yourself, now go."

Holmes smiled and ran a hand across his tired eyes,

"Watson I think you are becoming quite invaluable."


	7. Author Note

**Author Note**

I realise I put chapter five on the last chapter should have been chapter six sorry for the confusion! God I need sleep! : ) Thanks for reading this far and please review!!

Oh, and Happy Easter xx


	8. Chapter 7 Lestrade

**Chapter Seven. Lestrade.**

Holmes slept long and deep, when he woke the sun was high in the sky. He blinked and held up his hand against it, taking his watch out of his pocket, he saw it was noon. Sighing he got up and rinsed his face with cold water from the bowl next to him, then left to find Watson. It didn't take long as Watson was visiting Mrs. Hudson, he turned as he hear Holmes' step.

"Good morning Holmes." He said smiling.

"Good afternoon Watson," Holmes said smiling back. Watson glanced at his watch,

"Oh yes of course."

"How is she?"

"Doing much better, she awoke briefly in the early hours and managed to eat something, she's sleeping now."

Holmes nodded,

"You slept well?"

"Yes, surprisingly well. Have you been here all night?"

"Most of it, I did sleep somewhat in the room next to yours, then a nurse fetched me to tell me Mrs. Hudson was awake."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"You needed the sleep Holmes." Watson's voice was firm and Holmes obediently dropped the subject, smiling slightly.

"Remind me never to cross you Watson."

"What?"

"Nothing," Holmes laughed slightly, "Are you coming home?"

"Yes if you are."

"No I'm not, I'm going to see Lestrade."

"Lestrade? About Mrs. Hudson?"

"Yes, why do you look shocked?"

"Well, does he know…what he was?"

"What she was? Heavens Watson you make it sound so very sordid?"

"Well isn't it?"

"Of course not, don't be so dramatic! Come on, I'll take you with me, it might do you good." Holmes walked away with long strides, laughing and looking for all the world like he hadn't a care in the world. Watson shook his head and followed, mystified.

"How long have you known Lestrade Holmes?"

"Oh, Lestrade," Holmes laughed gently, "Since I first came to London, he was there on my first case Watson, my first case in London anyway. He was an aspiring young officer then - only rose to Inspector with my help- but he showed promise so I didn't mind assisting him. It was a simple case of blackmail but it turned…well, Lestrade saved my life and, to my eternal regret, I promised I would help him whenever he needed it."

"He saved your life?"

"Yes, remarkable isn't it? And now I am forever bound to the man." Holmes sighed loudly, causing Watson to smile.

"You don't have to be if you don't want to."

Holmes turned a pair of blazing eyes on him,

"Don't have to be! The man saved my miserable life Watson!"

"Yes, I'm sorry Holmes."

Holmes dropped his head and sighed again,

"What fools these mortals be, forgive me Watson."

He placed a hand on Watson's arm,

"Forgiven Holmes."

The cab jolted to a stop and Holmes jumped out thanking the cabby and flinging a coin at him. Swiftly they both entered the grey building of Scotland yard and were stopped at the entrance by a uniformed officer.

"I can't let you in Sir." The man said in a gruff voice.

"I'm here to see Inspector Lestrade." Holmes remarked with a dazzling smile.

"And you are?"

"Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

"Oh, erm, this way Sir."

Holmes turned to Watson and smiled, they were led down a dark corridor and Watson shuddered, for a centre of justice it was remarkably eerie. The uniformed officer knocked on a side door, a hoarse 'Come in' was issued and Holmes and Watson were ushered inside.

"Holmes!" Lestrade exclaimed, rising and shaking Holmes' oustretched hand, "And, Doctor Watson, you two becoming a regular sight nowadays."

Watson smiled as he too, shook the Inspector's hand.

"I suppose you're here about Martha Hudson."

"Yes, what have you got?" Holmes assumed a business like manner and sat down, Watson, open-mouthed, took a seat next to him.

"Not a lot, the man you described to us either don't exist, or he's long gone. What made you send her?"

"Lestrade, you cannot berate or punish me any more than I am doing to myself, so her reason for being there is my affair not yours."

Lestrade coughed.

"Whatever you say Guv, but this ain't going to be an easy case, I don't reckon we got much chance of finding him."

"We've got to find him, and not just because of what he did to Martha."

"There's something you're not telling me Mr. Holmes."

Holmes smiled,

"As astute as ever Lestrade, but I'm afraid my secret will have to wait. Keep looking for him and let me know the minute you do."

"I will, don't worry yourself."

Holmes stood and shook the Inspector's hand, holding it a while longer than it took to shake.

"Thank you." It was so quiet it was almost a whisper.

"My pleasure Mr. Holmes."

Watson gazed at the two men and wondered just what had passed between them. His thoughts were interrupted by Holmes' strident voice,

"Come Watson."

Watson nodded to Lestrade and followed Holmes out into the dark twilight of London in January.

Lestrade lit a cigarette and blew smoke into the darkness of his office, he watched it curl and disappear into the air. Martha Hudson was a brave woman, whatever Holmes had got her involved was not pleasant or easy, but she did it just the same. Lestrade wondered why he had saved the wretched man's life, but for all his faults, he was a man you wanted on your side. Lestrade breathed in the smoke gratefully, his head spinning as it always did whenever he exposed himself to the wonder that was Holmes. He laughed quietly to himself, why did he ever save such a man?

_As always please review and let me know what you think : ) Thanks to the people who always review, I think I__'d give up if you didn't faithfully review! xx_


	9. Chapter 8 A Life Worth Saving

A tired looking young man wandered around Victoria station

Chapter Eight. A Life Worth Saving

_A tired looking young man wandered around Victoria station. His appearance was such as to strike the most casual observer, in height he was well over six feet and excessively lean, he had the air of a dreamer but his whole body spoke of determination. The crowds that bustled about him in the late afternoon rush paid him no heed, little did they know who they were ignoring and berating for his way in their path. He noted every word they said and every look they threw his way, noting them and storing them. Soon, he noticed the man he had come here to await. Just a fleeting glance but he was sure, he hurried quickly around an old lady with her dog, not stopping to apologise for his bad manners; he came up alongside a stationary train and waited. Crouching low so as not to be seen he gently pulled a gun from his inner coat pocket. His breath came in short gasps and his heart beat wildly, still he did not move. He saw the man approaching him and he crouched lower, the steam from the train covering him completely. He cursed and thanked the smoke all at once, he could not see and he so desperately needed to! He could hear footsteps behind him and he span around, deftly hiding the small gun up his sleeve, he gasped once more as the man he was seeking stood in front of him, smiling sadistically. He raised his hands slowly upon observing the man's raised gun, he maintained controlled of his limbs and silently thanked God that outwardly at least, he showed no signs of fear._

"_That was a stupid trick you played boy."_

"_I assure you it was no trick." His voice was calm, but the sweat was beginning to show on his brow. The man opposite him seethed with anger and the hatred in his eyes quite threw the young man off balance. _

"_How dare you presume to know my wife better than I do!" The man bellowed, the heat rising in his face._

"_I do not presume to know her better; I just deduced what was wrong with her. I know nothing about women, let alone wives."_

"_There ain't nothing wrong with her."_

"_A woman has a right to know her husband's whereabouts." The young man was fighting to remain calm._

"_You've destroyed my family!"_

"_I have destroyed nothing; I only saved your wife from further misery."_

_The man flew at this and seemed to lose whatever sense of self control he had previously had, before the young man could move they were on their backs, fighting to gain control of the gun. The young man heard hurried footsteps and shouting but paid them little attention. The gun was pointing into his eyes and the young man froze. How could he fight this? How could he stop all this death and corruption? He couldn't. The knowledge scared him more than the gun that was pointing at him, the whole world seemed to stop in that instant and he could hear the faint beat of his heart and the soft whispering of his breath. A sudden thud and the man collapsed on top of him, the world was forced into sharp focus once more and a rush of noise filled the young man's ears as he struggled to his feet. He stood looking down at the man's body and felt peculiarly nauseous. He had seen death before; maybe it was the fact that the man had died on top of him that caused him to feel such disgust. He looked around and saw a man running towards him, followed by a group of uniformed police officers. The young man sighed, taking slow steps to greet them._

"_Are you alright Sir?" The plain clothed officer said, placing a tentative arm on the young man's shoulder._

"_Yes, quite alright, You're a good shot Mr..?"_

"_Lestrade Sir, Sergeant Lestrade."_

"_Well, I owe you my life sergeant. Thank you."_

"_Just doing my job sir." Although humble words, the Sergeant gleamed with pleasure, "And you are?"_

"_Holmes, Sherlock Holmes."_

_The sergeant's face dropped into a frown. Mr. Holmes smiled,_

"_I see I've made an impression at the yard."_

"_Yes sir, well sir…"_

_Holmes laughed,_

"_It's alright Lestrade; I know I'm not well, shall we say, popular?"_

"_No sir." Lestrade looked as if he would say more but refrained from doing so, keeping his eyes on the floor._

"_That doesn't mean to say that I can't use their assistance..." Holmes trailed off and his face took on a thoughtful look. Lestrade gazed at the man quizzically. Was this really the man officials at the yard were so afraid of? He looked just out of school and hardly weighed enough to fight a woman, let alone the hardened criminals that he came into contact with every day._

"_Sergeant, do you fear I will disappear if you don't keep both eyes intently on me?" Holmes refrained from looking at the man but lit a cigarette in a nonchalant manner and began to smoke. Lestrade quickly cleared his throat and looked away._

"_My apologies sir, but well, I was thinking you don't look much like…"_

"_A force to be reckoned with?" Holmes turned towards him and smiled, smoke encircling his face, Lestrade thought him almost mystical but said nothing._

"_Well, I thank you for your timely assistance," Holmes said, throwing his cigarette to the floor and crushing it with his foot, "No doubt we shall meet again."_

_Lestrade took the hand that Holmes offered him, and winced at the strength of the man's grip. He smiled, Holmes smiled in return._

"_It was my pleasure Mr. Holmes; by all accounts it's a life worth saving."_

_Holmes smiled,_

"_So they say," Holmes looked momentarily uncomfortable and Lestrade was about to apologise for causing him embarrassment when Holmes gripped his hand in a vice like manner, "Sergeant, I owe you my life and I will not forget it, I know it is a humble offer but should you ever have need of my help you have only to ask."_

_Lestrade looked into his steely grey eyes and saw fear in them._

"_Thank you sir, I will."_

_Holmes nodded and then walked off swiftly in the direction of the street, Lestrade watched him go until he was lost in the smoke of incoming trains._

_A peculiar man, he thought as he gathered his officers together and set about removing the body, very peculiar…_

Holmes awoke with a gasp. The early morning sunlight creeped over the floor and up to his bed, he blinked. He could hear Watson walking around in the other room and he lay back with a sigh. What had made him think of that moment? He shook his head as he stood, merely reminiscing to Watson he supposed, and he slipped on his dressing gown and went to greet the doctor.

_I'm sooo sorry for the long wait between updates, I have no spare time!! Please read and review even if you think it's no good xx_


	10. Chapter 9 The Perpetrator

Lestrade's fingers were beginning to annoy

**Chapter Nine. The Perpetrator. **

Lestrade's fingers were beginning to annoy. Holmes closed his eyes and gritted his teeth against the constant tap-tapping of the Inspector's fingers. Holmes felt his foot begin to bounce in time with the Inspector's fingers and he uncrossed his legs in order to avoid temptation.

"Lestrade for heaven's sake," Holmes' calm voice seeped into the tired man's consciousness and he abruptly stopped, placing his hands in his lap.

"Sorry Mr. Holmes."

"What on earth's the matter?" Holmes' voice was uninterested but polite.

"It's Dr. Watson."

Holmes opened his eyes slightly and looked sideways at the Inspector.

"Watson?"

"Yes, he's been asking a lot of questions recently."

"Has he indeed?" Holmes smiled gently and once more closed his eyes.

"Questions about…well about that time you said we were never to mention…"

Holmes' brows came together in a frown of annoyance.

"I thought he might."

"What should I say to him? He's awfully persistent." Lestrade was almost shaking in his anxiety.

"The truth my dear fellow, what else?!"

Lestrade jumped at Holmes' sudden change of tone. Holmes span around to face him, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

"But…but you said…" Lestrade faltered.

Holmes waved his hand with a flourish.

"Oh forget what I said! Our good doctor is on a mission and how horrible would it be of us to deny him his lurid tale?"

Holmes rubbed his hands together, almost in a state of glee, while Lestrade looked on amazed. At that moment, the door to Lestrade's office opened and a nervous looking officer entered.

"He's 'ere Inspector."

Lestrade cleared his throat and stood up from his desk.

"Thank you Griffiths." He turned to Holmes who was blowing smoke rings into the air.

"Holmes?"

"Mmm..?" Holmes remained seated, his eyes closed and a cigarette placed elegantly between his quivering fingers.

"Are you coming?"

Holmes' head snapped forward, he crushed the cigarette onto the floor, much to Lestrade's disgust, and strode from the room, the Inspector close on his heels.

Throwing the door of the Interview room open Holmes strode purposefully in, to face the cowering man waiting.

"Tut, tut Jameson," Holmes remarked, a hint of amusement present in his voice, "You shouldn't sit there quivering like an old woman! You may be the solution to our case."

"Me Sir?" the frightened man stammered, casting a questionable glance in Lestrade's direction who remained motionless.

"Yes you, you miserable coward," Holmes hissed, bending close to the man's ear, "Tell us what you know about Martha Hudson."

Holmes righted himself and took a seat opposite the man, who was now sweating profusely. Lestrade sauntered over and stood quietly behind Holmes' chair. Holmes lit a cigarette and blew smoke, rather impolitely, into the man's face, he coughed sharply.

"I don't know any Martha Hudson."

"Oh I think you do, you must at least remember a woman you left for dead two nights ago."

The man significantly paled but said nothing.

"I don't understand." He whispered, avoiding Holmes' gaze.

Holmes slammed his fist onto the table and glared at the man.

"Do you take me for a fool!?" Holmes shouted. The man cowered backwards, fear consuming his face.

"I know it was you Jameson, I can't prove it yet but I know it and I want to know why."

Jameson drew his eyes away from Holmes and focused on a still silent Lestrade.

"Are you gonna let him talk to me like that? An 'im not even a proper police officer."

"Ha!" Holmes stood up sharply, causing his chair to clatter backwards and Lestrade to hastily jump out of its way.

"So you know who I am! And we've never before set eyes on each other."

"Well you know me sir, why shouldn't I know you?" Jameson remarked, enigmatically.

"I know you because I've been watching your…activities for a while. And when I watch someone I assure that _I _am never seen. Which brings me to my point, how did you know I wasn't a police officer?"

"Well Sir…I…" Jameson faltered at Holmes' knowing smile.

"I should say you've been warned about me haven't you? That your leader, whoever he may be, told you that Martha was working for me and where to find her that day, and you made sure you carried out your duties."

"Which were?" Jameson asked, the hint of a smile playing around his thin lips.

"To ensure that she carried whatever information she had gathered to her grave."

Jameson laughed quietly,

"You very nearly succeeded Jameson and you think this is funny?" Holmes' voice was calm but his eyes were icy cold. Lestrade took a step towards him just in case the situation should get out of control. Holmes noticed and put a reassuring hand on his arm, Lestrade took a step back. Holmes placed both his hands on the table and leaned forward so he was at eye-level with Jameson.

"You may go as Lestrade here doesn't have enough evidence to keep you, I personally would fabricate some just to keep an eye on you but fortunately for you the good Inspector possesses more morals than myself."

Jameson held his gaze for a moment before rising, the sharp squeal of the chair hit every wall. Holmes stood immobile, his back to the door.

"One more thing before you go."

Jameson turned,

"I will find out who you are working for and I will discover what Martha knew and when I do I will bring you all down and you will pay for what you did to her. Take that back to him with my compliments."

Holmes span around, still holding his cigarette tensely. Jameson smiled and bowed emphatically.

"Yes sir."

Lestrade raised an eyebrow at Holmes as he led Jameson out. When he returned Holmes was lying on the table, his eyes closed, a fresh cigarette between his lips and his hands clasped over his chest. Lestrade walked over to him and stopped close to his head.

"What are you doing?"

"Thinking."

"And you have to lie on my interview table to think?"

Holmes opened his eyes and took the cigarette from his lips, sitting up he smiled at the Inspector.

"No I don't have to, I was curious as to your reaction if I did."

"Holmes anyone else would have carted you off to a lunatic asylum before now, but I'm used to you."

Holmes laughed silently.

"Perhaps that is the best place for me. What did you think?"

"Of Jameson?"

Holmes nodded and crossed his legs.

"I reckon you're right, he did it. I don't know how you know and I'll wager I don't want to know," Lestrade held up his hand before Holmes had the chance to launch into a lecture on his methods, "but if evidence is what you're after then I'll certainly do everything in my power to help you get it."

Holmes jumped off the table and took the Inspector's hand.

"Thank you Lestrade."

Lestrade nodded and led Holmes to the door.

"Are you going to tell him?" Holmes asked throwing on his coat.

"Tell who what?"

"Watson are you going to tell him how you saved my life?"

"If you wish it."

Holmes laughed and drew his pipe from his pocket.

"The good doctor is already mystified as to my character, it may do him good to focus on my life before him for a while. At least it would divert his attention from my love life."

"Your love life?"

Holmes winked at Lestrade and bounced down the stairs waving his hand and shouting,

"Goodbye Lestrade."

He was gone before Lestrade had the chance to ask him precisely what he meant.

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_I'm sorry for taking ages to update this story!! Life gets worse…anyway, I hope you enjoy please review and let me know. I'm not sure how long this story is going to run for, it may be short it may be an epic! Let me know what you think, thanks and much love as always : ) Music97 xxx_


	11. Chapter 10 Love of Life

Love of Life

**Chapter Ten. Love of Life**

Watson watched Holmes from his armchair one late Sunday night. Mrs. Hudson had recovered from her ordeal and had been brought home that morning. While she rested Holmes had insisted upon taking over whatever domestic duties he could manage – or at least ones that would not interfere with his cases. He had spent the day cooking, cleaning and washing and had now fallen sound asleep in his chair. Watson watched him and smiled. He was such a man of paradoxes, he thought as the detective's eyelids fluttered slightly in his sleep. No-one looking at this man, spent from a day of domestic chores would think him to be the foremost consulting detective in England and yet, he possessed a mind such as Watson had never seen, or indeed thought possible outside of romantic and adventurous fiction.

What exactly was it about this man that fascinated him so? That fascinated so many? It was true that many officers at the yard regarded Holmes as as near to detecting perfection as they could hope to aspire to. Many of the children that played in the street outside, when they saw him coming, would run to him, clinging to his coat tails, asking incessant questions, all of which Holmes would politely ignore but always he favoured them with an indulgent smile.

The detective shivered slightly and his eyelids fluttered open, when his eyes rested on Watson, he smiled.

"I don't think I could ever be a woman Watson." He said very matter-of-factly.

Watson could not restrain from laughing.

"I should think not Holmes."

"It is far too much like hard work." He stood up and gave out a long groan as he stretched his six foot frame. "How is Mrs. Hudson?"

"Asleep, the last time I checked on her." Watson replied, his eyes diverting back to his paper.

"Good, good."

Holmes chewed a finger nail and paced up and down. Watson sighed and put down the paper.

"What is it?"

"I'm going out."

"Do you want some company?"

"No thank you Watson, it is best I do this alone."

"Do what?" Watson asked arching an eyebrow.

"Nothing to worry about." Holmes slipped on his coat and gloves and picking up his stick, vanished from Watson's view. He listened to the decreasing sound of his footsteps and then walked over to the window. He could just Holmes' back blending with the everyday throng of Baker Street passers by and wondered where he was off to. It could not bode well for whoever he was going to see. Watson took his seat once more and lifted the paper, but his eyes stared beyond Baker Street and beyond London, to some far off place where he understood his flat mate. Watson suspected that place was very far off indeed.

_A very short chapter to let you know I'm still alive and I haven't forgotten about all the stories I've got going on but life is manic and I'm trying my best to get round to everything! As always I hope you enjoy and please review x_


	12. Chapter 11 Audacity

**Chapter eleven. Audacity**.

Holmes remained silent, his step, trained over the years to be undetectable, traced the man's path in front of him with ease. Occasionally the man turned, but Holmes was too accomplished to let himself be seen. He followed the man into a warehouse, water slid down the walls in slimy streaks of green, and rats scurried around his feet. Holmes ignored it all, his eye on his man. He followed him up some stairs and watched from the darkness as he entered a lit room, bare for a table and one chair. Sitting on this chair was a man of formidable size, clad in an expensive grey suit. Holmes whistled under his breath, this man was not short of money or indeed influence; he was well known among political circles.

"The woman is not dead." The man in the expensive suit boomed, more a statement than a question.

"No sir, she escaped."

"Escaped!" The man's voice echoed around the room and Holmes winced, "You didn't finish her! She did not escape and now Holmes knows all!"

"He may not know about you sir." The man replied, almost visibly shrinking in his anguish.

"Sherlock Holmes is not a stupid man, it will not take him long to find me."

Holmes smiled in the dark, sooner than he thought.

"No, in fact I just followed your lackey here, and he led me straight to you." Holmes' voice broke into their meeting abruptly, soon followed by the man himself, who sauntered into the room, seemingly unperturbed by the guns he saw lying on the table.

"Holmes." The man in the suit hissed.

"You really should employ more careful men Straker, not only do the ones you employ fail to carry out their duties, they are also shamefully lax when it comes to hiding their trail."

The man in the suit glared at Holmes.

"This is not the end Holmes, you may have saved your spy this time but there will be other times."

"Yess…" Holmes drew out the word, sinking his head to his chest and biting on a nail, "However I do not think it will be you she need worry about."

Straker raised an eyebrow.

"You see, Scotland Yard are on their way here. Alerted by my good self to your drug, shall we say 'dealing', activities?"

"You can't prove anything." Straker's hands gripped the table in front of him, turning his knuckles white.

"Oh I think I can, as I said your employees are very lax when it comes to hiding their trail and indeed their business. I have at least one witness who has purchased from you on more than one occasion and they are willing to testify against you."

Straker's man lunged forward and grabbed hold of the gun lying on the table, pointing it at Holmes he stood in front of Straker.

"You wont prove anything Mr. Holmes, I ain't goin inside, not agen!"

Holmes stepped back slightly to assess the man's position then moving forward took the gun from him in one fluid motion, leaving the man; and Straker, open mouthed in amazement.

"I do wonder if the invention of the gun was a good idea." Holmes went on, quite calmly, holding the gun up to his face, "It does allow the most unsavoury of people to commit murder in the most uninteresting of ways, it takes all the originality out of life don't you think?"

Holmes smiled as the two men stared at each other in stunned silence. Holmes turned his head slightly as the sound of running boots came stomping up the metal steps.

"Ah, Lestrade. These are the men you are after and while you are arresting them I think you should add two more charges to your list."

"Oh Mr. Holmes what are they then?" Lestrade asked, struggling with Straker as he resisted arrest.

"The attempted murder of my housekeeper, Martha Hudson and the attempted murder of myself."

Lestrade smiled,

"Yes Mr. Holmes, whatever you say."

"These charges won't stick Holmes!" Straker shouted as he was lead away. "The public respect me and they wont see me put behind bars!"

Holmes smiled,

"It is a small point Mr. Straker but would you mind addressing me with my prefix, I should hate to be on familiar terms with the entire criminal underworld."

Straker spat at Holmes' feet. Holmes raised an eloquent eyebrow and sighed,

"No respect among the criminal classes anymore Lestrade."

Lestrade smiled and shook his head.

"No Mr. Holmes there is not. Do you think the charge will stick?"

"Well, there is evidence enough if a jury chooses to see it but I'm afraid Straker is right. His public image may prevent his conviction."

Lestrade sighed,

"So he may get away with what he did to Martha then?"

"Oh no Lestrade, I should not say that. Even if he is not convicted I will make him pay."

"Do not take the law into your own hands Mr. Holmes." Lestrade replied, his voice becoming stern. Holmes laughed.

"And you would be in a very pretty state if I did not do so, would you not _Inspector_?"

Smiling at Lestrade's reddened face, Holmes span on his heel and strode out into the day light. Lestrade watched him go marvelling at the man's audacity, but he was right, he would be in a mess, a very large one should Mr. Holmes of Baker Street ever decide to retire. Lestrade shuddered at the thought and went about the business of dispensing with his charges.

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_**I forgot I had this story going on! Disgraceful of me I know : ) Reviews much appreciated! – Music97**_


	13. Chapter 12 More than That

**Chapter Twelve. More than that.**

Holmes burst through our sitting room door whistling and beaming from ear to ear.

"What has made you so jubilant this morning?" I asked, I could not help smiling at his mirth.

"I have my man Watson!" He cried, pouring himself a drink and throwing himself into his chair.

"The man who attacked Mrs. Hudson? Well done Holmes!"

Holmes smiled enigmatically at me.

"I may have caught him but he is yet to be convicted."

"Surely he will be." I protested.

"Perhaps, but he is a well-known figure Watson, his reputation may hamper his chances."

The smile suddenly gone from his lips Holmes stared into the fire, all thoughts lost to me. I watched him with curiosity, amazed that his mood could change so rapidly. He sensed my staring and smiled.

"How about dinner Watson? I could use some civilised conversation after the delightful Mr. Straker."

I nodded my acquiescence and had risen to put on my coat before the name dawned on me.

"Straker? Not the politician Straker?" I asked incredulously.

"The very same Watson." Holmes smiled, putting on the gloves he had just taken off.

"But, how?" I started; Holmes cut me off with a raised hand.

"Ahh the ways of criminals are indeed hard to understand Watson, not least when by day they are respectable gentleman. You will come to learn my dear fellow," he continued as we emerged onto Baker Street, "That living, and working, with me will often place you in impossible situations, encountering people that will leave your trust in humanity shattered."

"Shattered Holmes? Surely not." I smiled; this instantly disappeared as he turned his piercing grey eyes upon me.

"Shattered Watson."

"Surely you cannot have lost all your faith in humanity Holmes, else why would you fight so hard for justice?"

Holmes smiled as he linked his arm through mine and we strolled at a leisurely pace towards the park.

"I see you will be good for me Doctor, you may remind me that I am not wholly evil."

He had stopped smiling and was gazing at two children playing by the river.

"No Holmes, not completely."

My voice broke into his reverie and he looked at me with sparkling eyes. He broke into a smile.

"Come friend Watson, dinner awaits us and I must say I am famished."

I smiled as we quickened our step, and found myself thinking of that first meeting with Stamford and how far I had come since that day. Looking at Holmes now I remembered my comment to Stamford, telling him that I felt we would be no more than mild acquaintances. It is strange how that in a few weeks I seem to feel differently, I feel now that we will be so much more than that, myself and Holmes; more than merely those mild acquaintances I had referred to. I have never felt blessed by providence but as I walked with Holmes and I sensed his trust in me, I felt that some divine being was watching over me and had given me Holmes to save me from myself. Perhaps Holmes was right, perhaps we would be good for each other.

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_Complete! I quite like this story and would have liked to expand it but unfortunately ran out of ideas! I may expand in the future if inspiration finds me : ) In the mean time reviews are greatly appreciated – as are ideas on my stories and opinions on my writing in general as I feel sort of stuck in a rut, comments gratefully received, thanks – Music97._


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